Saturday, December 16, 2006

The Beginning of the End

Let us start with the roots. They say we evolved from monkeys. In monkeys, though I am not sure, but I presume that they do not follow single partner rules. They copulate with multiple partners. We are an evolved species, but they are the roots, the ancestral species. Genetic adaptation over time has ultimately resulted in a lot of ambiguous modifications in physiology and psychology. If we strongly believe that the physiological change is governed by genetic change and up to an extent psychological change as well (if we overlook the effects of environment), then we can club all these changes under one heading, that of mutation (I love to choose this word, even if it is not exact here).

So, over the years monkeys got mutated and became human beings. And one mutation led to the loss of promiscuity in the major chunk of human beings. Let us go back to ancient times. Whatever proof we have says that in some regions of earth polygamy was prevalent, in some polyandry and in others monogamy. This is about marriage only, to simply things, I assume that copulation only took place after marriage or if before marriage then it resulted in marriage, but they were inseparable. So, humans were always confused what to do? They pondered but then they had multiple partners. In some societies powerful men were polygamous, but not all men. So, there was no clear cut rule defining this human behavior.

There was a formation of a societal institution called marriage, because of which free sex was hindered. There was no free sex in the world, man and woman entered a relationship before having sex, which was recognized by the society. This was a part of civilization. But still they were not sure about whether a man should have multiple partners or a woman. This thing continued for long, and then with multiple factors like awareness, social revolutions things changed. Now, we have a society where we believe in one marriage!

A lot of people think that copulation cannot be had without feelings. That is true. But feeling of attachment is not a must. You can copulate without affection. It is a physical need related to psyche. But that psyche need not be affection.

Essentially we still are unable to prove what is wrong with copulating with multiple partners. Apart from lame reasons that we give about AIDS and all, well these can be good reasons but still not strong enough. I believe has to be psychological bent towards this need analysis. What exactly is it determined by?

(In complete! First of the letters exchanged with a lovely contemplator)

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

My Own Star Chase

This is a story when I lived far away from earth, on a distant planet. One night I came out of my den and gazed at the interstellar space. There were millions of scintillating stars. I decided to take a voyage towards planet earth, because the light coming from there had a spellbinding effect on me. I wasn’t sure what it was doing, but curiosity served as fuel for my voyage. I had a hunch that my voyage would be full of difficulties and my destination, far out of reach. But every time I looked at that star I wanted to reach it even more. Every light year I traversed through the empty space, I was alone and that was the beauty of this voyage.

It simmered slowly and its warmth traveled across the ether to entice voyagers like me. As I kept on getting closer to this star, it became even more beautiful. Finally the voyage was complete and to my amazement the star was far prettier than my expectations. I was honored by the star to have reached it.

I set an observatory close to the star so that I could know more about the beauty it kindled. That day onwards I could do nothing else but appreciate the beauty and thus I had a new 24/7 job. I started converting this beauty into text, because I wanted the moments of amazement to prevail till eternity. I craft this star into a lady, so that the world close to this star empathizes with me.

This lady had the prettiest eyes in the world. No doubt I was drowned into the unfathomable depth of her eyes. The freshness of a garden pulp and the radiance of a sunny day flower compared to one look on her face. There was elegance in every movement she made. The curvaceous shape of her body had an orgasmic impact on every observer. The elegance of the expressions of her radiant face made me spell bound and generated a thought process towards her for ages. The impact of her presence made me a slave bowing to her pulchritude. I lost all my senses but one, that incessantly appreciated her splendor.

Like every voyager I wanted to see the star from as close as I could, alas the burning sensation would kill me. My continual signal transmission at last yielded some response. I was overwhelmed at my success and I wanted to glorify it. There was joy in everything.

But sadly, stars keep on moving in the ether where everything that doesn’t collide or gets annihilated by the star moves further away from it at a speed faster than ever before. Soon I ran out of fuel to survive in the orbit around it, and we moved apart, with memories of gold.

One voyage can change your life. My quest for this beautiful star had a life changing impact on me. And that impact still persists, and will continue to persist eternally, that is the power of her attraction.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Fuck the name

Fuck the name (FTN) rocked the insides of Mezz, when I was checked by Mahaveer. “How many beers for you sir?” I smile and bring my hand forward to greet his hospitality. “None! I am out of cash, and friends are on the way.” I tell him about my fucking condition of being broke! Well couldn’t help money is always in shortage, no matter how much you have; moreover it was already 20th of the month. I just fortunately happened to find this gig at Mezz, reached just in time, not to miss a single string. I consumed all the cash that I had, eat momos cheap and filling, bought a 10 cig pack, and paid 100 for my entry.

Well, inside the pub, slowly and slowly, the weird crowd was gathering. I checked out a few hot chicks in there, yeah they were literally dressed to kill. Smoked a few cigs till the time Stanley arrived and funded the beer. The harsh, ear-drum wrecking music, with all that smoke and alcohol was taking everyone high. I found my self a peaceful (didn’t mean it by noise, but crowd) spot besides the speaker.

Alcohol has a patented effect on me, unlike few others it is not a thing of euphoria for me, but depression. I get into a state of sublime emotions; sadness zooms in front of me. Longitudinal pressure waves traverse through the smoky ambiance creating a holocaust for neurons of my brain. The rod cells transmit a fading glimpse to my optic nerve, which generates electrical impulses to be sent to my brain, which through complex chemical activity determines that it is a white skin. This brings me back to reality, but yet, not completely.

I see a foreigner, a middle aged man, waving his arms in sheer ecstasy. He was accompanied by three little chink girls, who from no angle seemed to be related to that man. I couldn’t resist my inquisitive nature and went on to explore the scene slightly deeper.

The old man held her from the waist and made a move towards her. He treated her like a toy, and touched her in a lewd, yet insulting way. She was one among those millions, deprived of justice and respect she deserved in this ruthless men’s world where women hold a position of pleasure objects. She smiled time after time and the plasticity of her gesture was not obscure.

Money can’t buy everything but sure sex. Men of reckless riches are ones who buy women to satiate their undying libidos. Sex for money is not difficult to obtain, and sex as a business is good, as sex sells a good deal. But same is true for kidneys, heart, narcotics, and all the evil shit. In some of these businesses it is the customer who pays the bigger price, and in others it is the client who pays the bigger price and yes here I am talking about price in terms of morality and not the metal-implanted paper.

I am an analyst, I go to office, I don’t wish to work, I detest my bosses, I feel I am doing injustice to my moral self and I quit the job. I could betray my soul for money so I quit the job. I find a new one which is better. I like the work; I respect my bosses and work hard to yield good results. I love it; I do moral justice with myself.

But where is this scenario in business of sex workers? They don’t like there customers, they don’t like their bosses but still they do their job. There is an absence of moral satisfaction. They don’t do moral justice to themselves. They live by selling their soul.

Making love is a beautiful thing; and beautiful things are priceless, don’t buy them.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Resonance Effect

There was a transfer of thousands of bacteria as she rolled her tongue inside his enormously salivating mouth. She rested her back in his arms, folded around her breasts. There was feeling of unmatched peace. The peace was accompanied by a thrill of possessing him as well the moment. There was no one around, no one to disturb the freedom they shared. Their solitude was unperturbed.

As they together sat on the sofa and looked out of the window at the eleventh floor, they could catch a splendid view of the dimly lit city in bright orange color. She couldn’t have felt better, one of the glorious moments of life. With time the heat of the moment increased, leading their passionate souls to achieve the pinnacle of bliss. Her hands went into his hair as she bent her face to comfort her lips on his. With a spurt of serotonin in his brain he grabbed her butts with his hands, pushing her tightly towards himself. They pressed their bodies against each other to increase the level of friction. Still, there were a few layers of fabric between them, but their heated bodies could not resist them for long.

Her head felt beautiful, so did her body; she knew that it was a pristine feeling. They moved to the bed so that there was more fun and less injury. Their genitals were already wetted by the natural outflow of love juices. So, it didn’t take him long to enter her and take her to the sublime states of copulating.

As she laid her head on his hairy chest, she was marred by post-coitus thoughts. She asked him the old question that every lover asks their partner, if they love them or not? And the guy burst into laughter. Perhaps he understood the innocence behind that question. Well true, you aren’t expected to be smart in love! But a stupid fool!

Love has to be felt but not said. Languages can be misleading, but vibes cannot be! Feelings cannot be right or wrong, but their interpretation. Our biggest misery is that we use language as a tool to communicate, which in itself is not complete and thus is misleading. I don’t what the right way to communicate is, but at least for sure that at least for myself I am more cheated when I took somebody’s words for granted than their vibes. So, need I say trust the vibes?

Monday, August 07, 2006

Living somebody else's life

Lament first…some things are just not meant to happen and when you run after them they run farther away making you believe more strongly in the existence of a mysterious celestial force conspiring against your what you want. For instance I had been trying to put down something on my blogspace for last one month without any success. Today while I started scribbling down (I regret the usage of this word here, analogous for typing, without much help) the power went off, and sadly my UPS no longer offers surviving potential. Anyways thankfully I got another chance to scribble (Repeating mistakes is not my habit) down and yes hopefully by the end of this article I might also feel good for materializing this chance well.

Well the article is about the work. Long time back when I was in college (2 months back) people around, used to say a lot about the difficulty of the nearing professional life. Though I was not oblivious to what they used to say but I never thought it would that different. Surely every one misses the spirit of freedom one has a student but then there are a few unprecedented detestable things associated with the professional life, and they are the responsibilities which follow.

It would stupid of me to say that I cannot take responsibilities lest of some fear. I am not talking about the responsibility of work, neither am I talking about the responsibility of finances, but something else. Now, I tried to figure out what this is without much success. Though I have a slight idea of what they are. At least I know the instances of these unjustified responsibilities. I find myself getting trapped into all this, all the time being unaware of what is happening, then one day I realize that what is happening is not what I want but something that is a result of my current state of life. I will tell you the difference, there were so many times when I was in college I could say no to people because I didn’t want to do what they asked me to but now I find exceedingly difficult to do so. It happens in both professional as well as personal situations and believe me had it been only for the professional bit things would have been tolerable but personal issues just freak you bad.

Either I will become bad in their eyes, or I will feel bad for doing what they want me to. This situation is really terrible, it is just like bottling the steam one day it will break bottle with burst and things will take a bad shape. I wonder if I can afford to be a SAY NO kind of a person again or if I will have to compromise for the rest of my life. The thought makes me quiver.

Another change is happening in my head, I am unable to think free, my thinking cords are sagging, bearing the load of other-hood. Killing this other-hood is what I need to figure out how. I guess I need solitude to figure that out.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Trivia

Long time no interesting story to tell. Alas I retort to my favorite topic: women. I must say a few words about the women in my office. Well most of them are respectable dames but some seem bitchy. First let me brief you about the scene of my office.

Six of us, IITians, joined this analytics firm, with two of us including me in pharma team and the rest four in finance team. Well the most interesting thing is that this sextet we form is nothing but a group of snobs. Our company doesn’t have many IITians before us that gives us obvious reasons to look down upon others. I confess that we are being haughty bastards here, but we can’t help it. Though, we might be less capable than what we presume to be, but still, we have enough big a reason to have a condescending eye for others. We do nothing more than cracking silly jokes on everyone. If we run out of people, we start bulling each other.

Women in office, there is one female I am really attracted to, but as usual, my bad luck is too good, and she always goes out with another guy, who in all terms seems better than me. I envy him! Never mind! She has an amazingly cute smile, and she has the delicacy that a female must posses. She is attributed with a good dressing sense and off course in uniform she seems more provocative than anything. She is a perfect blend of cuteness and sexiness. She is in a different team, and I have always been too shy to say hi first.

Well that’s where it closes actually, there are other females as well in fact a lot of them but none of them is as appealing as she is, neither is their charm as appealing as her to occupy my blogspace.

Well such women keep coming to your life, time after time, and they leave an impact which is fast but temporal. And there is another set of women who make your life; their impact is slow but eternal. You can get fun with the first set of women, but never satisfaction. Because when it comes to rest, you cannot sleep on a bed of diamonds, but a bed of flowers.

Friday, June 30, 2006

Not my piece of cake

Third day into real life, things don’t seem to be at all fun. In three days I have realized that I am not among those who find work exciting, interesting or inspiring. It totally sucks ass. I get up at 6:30 in the morning, and it feels awful. I go through morning ablutions. I take all pleasure in dressing up in formals; they surely look good, but are uncomfortable to wear, the so called corporate look is not easy to carry. Polished leather shoes surely add to the grace of plain dark colored trousers and bright colored shirts, but one foot in soil and they are fucked. The dark pants are no good; they get mottled with every stint of alien body touch. My left foot dirties the lower right of my pants and the right one with full compliance to Newton’s third law of force does the left one the same favor. It sure feels disgusting when you have to constantly keep brushing the dust off.

To add to it, talk about the shirts; they get dirty without doing anything at all. Collars, cuffs, and where ever there is an opportunity.

Perhaps I don’t know how to carry formals well; I just hope that I learn soon, or may be I no more stay corporate.

Monday, May 29, 2006

She is a lady

At times she is gloomy, at times she is gay. But she always dwells on rhythm. A rhythm, that compels you to dance with her. Many words of praise from the praise worthy are bestowed to her. She is deeper, the deepest ocean, only to be matched by the incessant space. Once you start adoring her, you can never get out of her love. She is a freak head, yet she is the most sensible woman in the world. She is mystic, but she is truth. She creates illusions, yet beautiful and so close to the world we are and the world we wanted to be in. She was born out of creativity.

I spend most of my time with her, and that is all quality time spent. She teaches me a lot of things; at times I think she is the most intellectual female of the world. She has opinions on everything; if not solutions. She is benevolent; she is considerate of poor hearts. She feels the pain; she knows how to party hard.

She has no semblance, no shape, yet she is the most beautiful female of the world. Once found, you can never lose her. She commits to you forever. She is the one love who never gets angry with you, and never bored of her, because, she is vivid. She is not ordinary. She is music to ears, and that’s what she is called.

PS: - Inspired by the words of Mikael Akerfeldt, “If music was a woman, I’d desperately want to fuck her”.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Nocturnals - One night at Pilot Plant

This is my first post which I am writing without any motivation. So perhaps it would be radically different. Since I don't know what I am about write, so this just might not make any sense at all.

Lets have a look at the events that made my day today. I woke up pretty late, 3 pm in the afternoon, which has been the usual trend for past few months. But thats ok, if one considers the fact that I went to sleep at 7 in the morning, 8 hrs of sleep, fairly nice. I wake up, and immediately call my sir, he tells me to have my lunch at his place. Saves my energy of wondering what to eat in the terrible heat. I plan my schedule that after lunch I ll go to the lab and work. I took a hot water shower, because nothing better was available. Though this experience was bad, but it has been a habit, also, atleast I got sterilized.

I walk my way to Sir's house. I buy some coke on my way, most of which I finish before I reach his place. Pretty cool room, tasty lunch served, and I didn't miss the opportunity to hog like a pig. A good lunch should always be followed by a good sleep. I fell on the bed...aah blissful state. Seconds later the power goes off. Gawd! Not so nice!...Its like he slaps and tells me...huh...you asshole! you had to go and work and you are bloody sleeping here. Get your ass up. I had no choice but to move, I gave myself consolation that th lab AC is better, take slight pain right now and go and sleep in the lab.

I reach the lab, nobodies there, perfect. I flip through a thesis for some while and get the stuff I needed and plan my experiment for the day or rather night. But then there is small information missing, which only my sir could tell me. I thought of giving him a call and wake him up, but then I thought it is not right. This man stays awake for 20 hrs a day, his average sleep has been 4 hrs for last 3 months. So, I just reject the thought of stealing a few moments from that precious sleep.

For next three hours I do rummage on internet, lissen to music, talk to friends over phone, the time just whizz passes. Meanwhile I show my smartness and prepare all the chemical reagents needed in my experiment beforehand, and then I feel clever without any reason.

Sir calls up, a couple of other friends appear, and together we go out for dinner. There is an inner pain, that I feel when I have to waste time commuting from one place to another. I can waste 23 hrs of the day sitting or sleeping or doing nothing but I feel terrible when I have to waste time travelling, then it doesn't matter if the time interval is as short as 5 mins. My usual pain appears and I start discussing my experiment with my sir, in a couple of mins, I extract the information that I needed from him.

Okie bloody hell, its 3:45 am and I have to stay awake for another 4 hrs. I am happy because that ways, perhaps after 5 months or more I ll eat breakfast. Well, out of breakfast I miss milk most. Though I don't like it much but still there is something about it. Things which have been a part of your life for long, when they are no more you miss them, irrespective of weather you like them or they you are indifferent to them. Things or people, true it is for both.

Shit it is 5:45 am..well all this while I did some of my work in fact took me one complete hour and then went to nescafe, had a choco muffin, maggy with ice tea. Morning time is beautiful, perhaps the most pleasent for any summer day. Cool breeze rejuvenates you. And yeah smoking in such a weather is an awesome experience, neverthless one should avoid smoking.

I will have to spend another couple of hours before my work is complete. Things always take more time than expected. But atleast, the work will be over when I go back to my room. I know if you have done the mistake to read all this crap, you must be regretting by now. I apologize for boring you, though I never intended, it just happens, shit happens you know. And now I see the sun too. Bloody time for me to go to bed, though I ll be slightly late today.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Solitude

Once again, I find myself falling to my own weakness. The reason I see, is that I never thought this weakness as a weakness rather I believed it to be my magnanimity, which for obvious reasons was considered as a positive trait. Has it paid anyone, having a big heart?

Once bitten twice shy. But I didn't learn. My folly, perhaps. Well, let me put some light on what I am talking about. I am talking about making people your life or rather friends your life. You make sacrifices, you make compromises, you kill your pride because once attached you believe that things should carried forward in good spirit. Because you don't bind easily to everyone, so you continue to believe that there is something special about that person. But there is a limit to everything, limit to the extent you can kill your pride, limit to the sacrifices you can make...And when the water goes above your head you think it is good for you to just get out of it.

We need friends to take care of us, because now and then they are the ones who understand you the best, they are the ones with whom you have all your fun. But, all along with this there is a certain degree of respect that you demand, if thats missing there is no strength in the bond.

Happy are those who don't care. Who never get attached. Who will share the happiness you have, but never bother to offer help when troubles engulf you. Life for them is very simple, rather they are the happiest folks around.

I have a few embedded traits, which I cannot lose, my amiable nature, my magnanimity. So, I believe what is good for me is to just stay aloof. Oh wonderful, guess whats the next song on my playlist: Solitude by Cathedral.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

A Reflection of Beauty

Black is the color of evil. At the same time a saying goes, "Fine mine surrender to black". Her eyes gracefully adored black Kajal. Without a province of error, her face was an epitome of beauty. You could just sit bemused, wondering over the effort god must have put in creating her. You could just get lost in every little bit of her, because she encompassed the pulchritude of various forms. Innocence dripped from her face, at the same time their was a hidden danger,to which the whole world witnessing her was oblivious.

She was the object of my keen and constant observation for 15 minutes or so, and not once we made eye contact. She was alone, lighting one cigerrte after another, slowly but surely kindling the beauty she had. She does nothing extraordinary, still she is very special. She always looks occupied by some wasteful thought. She has many friends, and probably a lot more admirers than friends. She always has a book, into which she is deeply engrossed.

Someone said, women have more than two eyes. Even if they are not looking at you with their visible eyes, still they can see the person who is looking at them. She lifted her eyelids and she knew she was killing me, and she did it again and again. Stealing now and then a glare, and embarssing me again and again, but I am one hard hearted fellow. She found me guilty of examining her without her permission, but I think she must be taking my appreciation as another feather in her hat. Or may be she was not, because I would merely be like any of those hundreds of secret admirers she has. I was slightly sad over that, but still, till the time you are trapped in the worldly deeds, you must realize the importance of sadness as a parameter to gauge the happiness in future.

She dressed elegantly. Very contemporary, very good. She knows very well how to carry herself. She has a slight mole on her upper lip, which is somewhat like a black dot on baby's face. She carries it well though, and it is disappearing fast, perhaps she got a surgery done. She talks gracefully, I overheard her while she was talking to the barista guy.

She is one little soul who believes in the words, "Change is another name of life". She recently got a new hair cut which just intensified the looks she wears. She never wears the same clothes again, I never saw her wearing the same attire twice. Well, when the whole world wears hoops, she adores similar rectangles in her ear lobes, and they don't look good on any one other than her.

Well, their was something special about the way she moved her eyes. Her face never moved much, but her eyes did, strong eye muscles I must say. Some women have this capability that they can turn you on without doing much. Such women are exquisite, and she surely falls in that category. I see, in her, all the attributes of a powerful woman who can rule men.

When I was a kid, one day I visited this place which had large number of mirrors. In every mirror you look different, you look the way that mirror projects. Your reflection is just a myth, though it carried the true image but it distorts it the way it wants to. And yes, I am skeptical.

At times I think she is a nihilist, advocating her strangeness with her peculiar actions. Well then I think a little and say, may be she is not truely beautiful, but just a reflection of true beauty...

Friday, April 14, 2006

Have a look....

Finally, my thought of converting my beer belly into abs was put into action today. Getting rid of that obscene pot belly and instead getting sexy abs. I just hope that I am regular with exercise and do not mess up things in between.

Looks play an incredibly big role in this world. Makes me slightly sad, but then I wonder if discrimination on the basis of looks is fair or not. Well before I move on I must recognize this fact that all of our attributes are god given, which include wisdom and looks both.

Well, every one wants to look hot, every wants to be wise too. Both these things ultimate do good to our confidence. Two equally well qualified men appear a technical interview, the interviewer gives them same marks for everything, but one of them is handsome compared to the other one. The interviewer has a natural bias, to take the handsome one, fair enough! Right? I mean these are very trivial inherent prejudices that we have, and they are very much human nature.

But the problem comes in case of faking the truth. We don’t find it bad to discriminate on basis of wisdom. This guy is more intelligent take him. But at the time hypocrites, we think discrimination on the basis of looks is unfair. Black and white, whites think they are superior, and they commit hate crimes based upon the looks. Though very little or not at all, at least never heard a hate crime based upon wisdom.

The thing is that truth shall be disclosed. Fakeness is provocative to contemptuous actions. Reality shouldn’t be tempered with. Some things are said and exist in the society, others are not said but they also exist.
Reservation, a hot topic of the moment also provokes hate crime, creates man made walls.

Apartheid is disgusting. I just wonder what would have happened, had the blacks developed more prior to the whites. I don’t how they would have treated the white men. But lot of this discrimination is based upon socio-economic scene.

Now a very different personal point of view, a person gets up in the morning, he has things like I need to learn this today, Ok! I need to go to gym, workout, Ok! And his life is very much based upon a protocol, increase your wisdom and enhance or maintain the sensuality of your looks. Well these are very basic things apart from the details of how we achieve all this, but they are the primarily identified deeds. I don’t see anything wrong with that.

Well, answer would have been easier had we known the purpose of our life. But still I am confused. I think with time this might become clearer, and I might be able to justify it with some rationality which is missing right now. Nevertheless, I shall not quit and keep working on abs. hehe

Friday, March 24, 2006

Once again...humane

This one is again about the premarital relationship of a man and woman. Well over the last few years I have seen a lot of relationships being made and broken. Many of them were successful, in the sense that they continued longer than others. Herein I present a story which focuses primarily on the sad part of this kind of bond.

Let us see how a relationship starts and shapes up. One of the sexes, predominantly the male, makes advancement towards the other and this other who is vulnerable to love, responds affirmatively. And thus, a couple starts going around, and are called to be in a relationship of love.

The story is actually not that simple. Rather there are complications added by inequality of devotion, commitment, interest and responsibility. I shall give these vital ingredients a single name of love. In 90% of the relationships that I have seen in my life this has been the case. In rather fortunate 10% cases the couples are actually unanimous in their love towards each other. In rest, one or more of these ingredients is missing.

There is an inherent flaw, and the answer follows from the study of fundamentals of human nature. Principles of competition and ambition, very much apply here too. Let us take the case of couple Rahul and Soumya. Rahul proposed Soumya telling her that he is crazy about her, he loves her from the deepest core of her heart, doing a lot of flattery, impressing her with his dedication and sincerity before she finally said yes to him. They happily go around, have fun. One day Rahul met another female Monica and finds her exceedingly pretty. He goes back home thinks about her only. She doesn’t get out of his head. He compares Soumya and Monica. Soumya’s beauty no more appeals to him. Monica seems smarter than Soumya. On the other side Soumya sleeps thinking about his beloved boy Rahul, planning for the coming Sunday. They meet and Rahul tells her that he no more likes her because she is not her type or giving her all kind of reasons telling that he is no more interested in her. She is speechless, she doesn’t know what to say, the guy who loved her so much yesterday no more likes her. Where did she go wrong, where did she fail to keep up the relationship? All these queries were waste, because that guy was gone.

They broke. Whose fault was it? No ones. Rahul found someone better so he moved to her. Don’t we shift jobs when we find a better one? Don’t we change houses to move into a new better one? Just that jobs and houses don’t have emotions like Soumya. But does it matter for Rahul. No a person who is leaving never cares for that. He/she doesn’t see what is left behind. What shape would it take when they are gone? Isn’t it a part of our ambitious character that we want to move to better things in life? I guess it is, very much. Similitude analysis will tell that this was a part of growth for Rahul. Yes, along with ambition it also shows the selfish character of Rahul, for the sake of his own pleasures/fun, he is indifferent to the pains of Soumya. Transformation of Love --> Hate, Love --> Selfishness

I was never a feminist, for some time in the years of haze I did become one. Don’t think that its only men who have this so called dog character. Women are equally crooked. Another similar story, based upon the lines of lack of availability of good products. This female, Aarti starts going around with this guy Mohit. Aarti was never interested in Mohit, but it was his increased persuading and lack of availability of good opportunities that made her say yes to him. Under such circumstances as soon as the good resources are available naturally Aarti would feel vulnerable towards them. And Mohit, just being lagging behind in the race won’t be the best of options available, would be exceedingly prone to suffering. He is dumped after a month because Aarti has finally found someone else who is better than Mohit, to it is time to say good bye to her time pass. Aarti was a beautiful girl and yes she deserved better than Mohit and had all the rights to go to a better guy but without playing with Mohit’s emotions. But again, if I have some cheap bread to eat today, and I hope to get good quality bread tomorrow won’t I consume the cheaper bread today? Or will my right to have good quality bread tomorrow be regarded sacrilegious? Transformation of Love --> Hate, Love --> Selfishness


For most it won’t be difficult to say that I crapped. And there was clear a cut flaw in my argument surrounding the amalgamation of principles applicable to non living things and living things.

I don’t profess a theory here. It is just an argument mocking the ruthlessness surrounding a large number of relationships. Is there a way out? Or the only way out is staying out of it?

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Smoking the last Cigarette of the day...

You read what I see. A big mustard colored board and an arrow over it pointed towards the beer and wine shop. I move my eyes in the direction of the arrow; the path my vision traces intercepts the aesthetically beautiful Barista. A glimpse inside shows an exceedingly cute couple; playing their cute little mysterious love games. Off course they want to go ahead, cross the limits, but the world is still not open, or may be I am just misinterpreting their sacred emotions. Eyes is their communication instrument, gleaming and blinking to mimick the shinning and twisting lips. Beautiful, isn't it? Enough of peeping, now my eyes start blushing. I see another board, this time a huge board with an arrow opposite to the previous one. My little favorite Barista is squeezed between these two blithes or may be a more critical inspection would reveal that both of them point towards Barista alone. Any ways, the green vegetable and bread shop, Subway. It looks clean and organised, pretty much demanded attributes for attraction. A bunch of loosely dressed long hair guys smoking their lungs out sat on the chairs under the green board. I just wonder, why they don't go to the basment Village Cafe. I am sure they will love the place, its wooden interiors, ultimate music and last but not the least FTV. A bliss for smokers and coffee freaks. To a side, Raibows, is no where close to its inspiration. MJ is another place for good music and beer lovers, but its a gay place for the some of my random prejudicies. You may go there and judge for yourselve. SDA market haas been a sure shot place for good time between lecture breaks, but a few overfortunate ones who don't have lectures at all, it is a 24/7 hangout. This aunty has been giving me stern looks for so long, perhaps she is scared of the gun I am clutching in my fingers, don't worry aunty, it is just a cigarrete, unlike a gun it kills slowly. Last puff, and I have to leave and work, bloody work! I hate it so much!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Moonlight Drive

"Let's swim to the moon, let's climb through the tide. Penetrate the, evening that the, city sleeps too high. Let's swim out tonight love, it's our time to try. Park besides the ocean, on our moonlight drive"

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

Pinky

Cathartic

Life is pain at times, when things don’t work the way you want them to. Today after a long time I have encountered a similar situation and I believe the reason for this is my own self. I have found myself guilty. I did something which I never thought I should have. I did something that was against my own preaching or ideology. I found myself to be a hypocrite.

I cannot talk about this to anyone, because no body will understand but a few to whom I cannot talk. This article is a concealed confession. At least it will ensure that I will get a night of peaceful sleep.

I was not corrupt. But I chose to become corrupt. I went on to elaborate my corruption justifying it with something that I shouldn’t have. The result of this was something that I feared. I am scared to lose my face for myself. I don’t care what the world thinks or says about me, because that’s trifling, but I care for myself. I don’t want to fall in front of my own conscience. That’s what pushed me to write this. This article doesn’t convey anything but helps me to analyze my deeds.

An apology means everything if you actually read into the things that went wrong, and set them right; even without the knowledge of the person against whom the offence was committed.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Thought for the Night

If a man ends up in a pub every third day, can he be called a drunkard?